


Invaluable

by sempre_balla



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Getting Together, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Vague Spoilers, they talk about their feelings for once, why are all my 3h fics post canon getting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 08:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempre_balla/pseuds/sempre_balla
Summary: “A-and, you know,” Dimitri continued, not looking at him at all. “I was about to ask what they were talking about, that you never did that, but Ingrid just, justlaughedand said that if anything you talked about me even more now, which is just— I mean—”“Shut up,” Felix breathed, because Dimitri wasn’t supposed toknow. “Just shut up.”





	Invaluable

**Author's Note:**

> while I wrote this I couldn't stop wondering if I was making their relationship too OOC but then again I based it on their paired ending which says they grew suuuuper close again, so take this as my interpretation of their developing relationship post-canon. I love them dearly.
> 
> I wasn't super thorough when editing this because I'm just tired of looking at it (it really wasn't supposed to be this long) so excuse any major mistakes! I will be going back to edit it at a later date.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t ‘proper’ or ‘acceptable’ of Felix to kick the chair his king was sitting on and then try to drag him out of it by his cape, and maybe he should have expected Dedue to grab him by the scruff of the neck like a kitten and throw him out of the room to let His Royal Majesty finish his stupid paperwork. Maybe Felix should start trying to get his behavior in check now that Dimitri was crowned and a duke wasn’t supposed to disrespect his king every single time they interacted, and if he did that then maybe Ingrid would finally get off his case and stop scolding him about the same thing every damn day. 

But Felix didn’t want to. The air between him and Dimitri had changed, and his attitude towards the royal, which used to consist solely of spiteful attempts to anger Dimitri and get him to crack and show his true colors, was now nothing more than friendly banter. An odd sort of banter, for sure, Felix was rough around the edges with all of his friends—except Annette, the treasure, whom Felix never had the heart to be mean to—but he was especially rough with Dimitri. If it was Sylvain sitting at a desk all day, looking absolutely miserable while he did nothing but paperwork for hours on end, then maybe Felix wouldn’t kick him and drag him away, maybe he’d try to convince him with words before he did any of that. But Sylvain didn’t sit on desks all day trying to finish paperwork, only Dimitri did that, and Dimitri _ hated _paperwork, he didn’t say so but Felix could tell. He had entered the king’s study to hand a report about the new trade routes in the Fraldarius territory and a single glance at the boorish figure hunched over his desk, his leg bouncing up and down with restless energy, had told him all he needed to know. 

He had slapped his report down on top of the parchment Dimitri was signing, which had made the king flinch and look up at him with a wide eye. 

“Get up, you look miserable,” Felix had said. 

“Hello to you too, Felix,” Dimitri had sighed, gingerly taking Felix’s report and eyeing it. “Let me read through this before we review it together, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind. Stop looking so pathetic and spar with me.”

“I cannot, I have work to do.”

So Felix had circled the desk, kicked Dimitri’s chair so hard it almost toppled over, and then grabbed him by the cape to drag him to the training grounds. Dedue had walked in on them like that and used his much larger physique to kick Felix out as if he weighed nothing—damn him for having the gall to be that huge. That was how he ended up on the training grounds all alone, taking his frustration out on a training dummy and wishing it was taller, broader, blonde and smiling like a maniac at the thrill of fighting someone with skill almost equal to his own. Felix gritted his teeth, lodged the sword into the training dummy in one swift thrust and then kicked it for good measure. 

No one understood Dimitri like he did. His inner circle had opened their eyes to the king’s true nature because there had been no other choice in the war, not when he walked around like he did, looking and acting and speaking like an absolute beast. But when Dimitri had started changing again, holding himself accountable for his actions and doing something to move forward and redeem himself, everyone acted like he had turned back into the seemingly perfect prince of their academy days. They didn’t _ understand_, they didn’t know that Dimitri’s issues were something that could always resurface if he kept repressing his urges, they didn’t want to accept that the beast and the prince were the same person, and that neither of them were bad on their own, only bad when they were all Dimitri allowed himself to be. 

Dimitri couldn’t be holed up in a study all day, pretending he didn’t feel the need to go out and train, work out his restless energy through a good fight. Sure, there wasn’t any danger of him becoming like he was during the five year war, not with no impending revenge he felt he needed to fulfill and no imaginary voices of the dead prompting him to do nothing but kill. But Dimitri was still a bit of a boar, and boars needed their regular action or the violence would work up inside them and then explode in the worst of ways. 

That was why Dimitri needed someone like Felix around. Dimitri was receptive to what Felix had to say nowadays, he didn’t drop his gaze to the ground and act like a kicked puppy whenever Felix tried to knock some sense into him. He met his gaze dead on and reacted to what he had to say, and those moments filled Felix with an emotion that warmed him head to toe, an emotion he didn’t dare to name. 

Pride was a part of it, maybe. Pride that his best friend was coming back to him, broken and pieced back together, different than he was before, but still himself. Though he would never say it out loud, Felix had missed him terribly. For years, he had wanted to bring Dimitri back but never knew how to. The frustration and bitterness that came with Glenn’s death and everything that it entailed had already soured him to the bone, but the realization of how much of a beast Dimitri could be had been a hard blow as well. Felix had been scared and clumsy, he hadn’t conveyed his feelings well enough and Dimitri had just spiralled down and down, letting the beast inside him fester while refusing to open his eyes to it, lying and lying and _ lying _ with that perfect prince facade he had loved so much until it broke and the blood spilled over, tainting everything, fulfilling Felix’s worst fears, pushing Dimitri into what had felt like a point of no return. 

Felix shook his head and pulled the sword out of the dummy, sheathing it at his waist. There was no point in wallowing on what had been, because things had changed. Dimitri couldn’t erase the horrible things he had done, and those awful years would always exist, but things were different now. He looked at Felix in the eye, and Felix looked right back. Felix taunted him and bit harsh words at him, and Dimitri reacted like he did when they were little and Glenn taunted him in the same manner. Their relationship was easy, _ felt _ easy, the war was two years behind them and they were close again. Felix found himself trusting Dimitri, found his chest swelling with unnamed emotions every time Dimitri faced his troubles head on and proactively found solutions for them. Things were different. 

Which was why it frustrated him even more than before when the others acted like they weren’t. There was no good reason to throw Felix out like that, Dimitri had _ needed _ Felix to take him away from his paperwork, but Dedue and Ingrid loved talking to Felix as if he was still out to hurt Dimitri with his every word. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, he was doing this for him, why couldn’t they see that?

He huffed and kicked the dummy again. 

“I did nothing wrong,” he said stubbornly when he heard steps approaching. He knew who it was without having to look. 

“I agree,” Dimitri replied, walking up to him. “Though this is hardly the training dummy’s fault.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t have to suffer through this if a certain someone had left his desk earlier.”

“My apologies to the dummy and you both, then.”

Felix rolled his eyes and finally turned to Dimitri. The man was smiling apologetically, and Felix couldn’t help it: he kicked his shin lightly, which only made Dimitri huff and laugh. 

“You let people boss you around too much,” Felix said, turning on his heel to grab a training lance. “You're the king, dammit.”

“What are you talking about?” Dimitri asked, effortlessly catching the weapon Felix threw his way. “Not a sword today? I prefer sparring with you without the weapon advantage.”

Felix preferred sparring with a Dimitri that wielded the weapon he was most comfortable with, even if lances gave him a much larger reach that Felix needed to work around. Dimitri was already a monster with a sword, but he became unstoppable with a lance, and the extra challenge was exactly what Felix was looking for. 

So he said: “Suck it up,” and pointed his sword at Dimitri. “And I was talking about that retainer of yours. You don’t wanna be holed up in that stuffy room, but he comes to you with all those papers and you just listen.”

“Dedue does not order me around,” Dimitri replied calmly, unfastening the heavy cape wrapped around his shoulders and throwing it to the side. He was dressed too formally for a spar, his clothes fancy for a meeting he had held earlier in the day. “There’s just… a lot to do. Turns out governing a whole continent is more work than one would expect.”

“Then get the professor to help you out,” Felix suggested, trying not to let his eyes stray to Dimitri’s forearms when the king rolled up his sleeves. “You have a whole archbishop to help you govern the continent and you never ask for help.”

“They have a lot on their plate too, I wouldn’t want to—”

“They’re probably running around the monastery all day, idling away on the fishing pond,” Felix interrupted. Dimitri grimaced like he knew Felix was right and didn’t want to admit it. Felix let out an annoyed sigh. “Fine, then, you stupid boar. If I win this duel, you’ll have to drop some of your workload on the professor.”

Dimitri grinned at that, spinning his lance before getting into his wide battle stance.

“Aren’t you setting yourself up for failure?” he asked. “You handed me a lance, and have been training alone for almost an hour.”

Felix scoffed. “Don’t get cocky, I’m not tired at all. Tell me what you want from me if you win instead. Not that you will, but I wanna know which dreams of yours I will be squashing today.”

Dimitri threw his head back and laughed openly, and Felix tightened his hands around his sword, his breath stuttering. He was still not used to that sound. He was uncomfortable with how much he loved it.

“If I win,” Dimitri said, an amused glint in his eye and voice coated with mirth, “you’ll help me with my paperwork tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” Felix groaned. Inexplicably, that made Dimitri laugh again.

“Don’t shirk your duties now, Duke Fraldarius,” he said, his voice bright and playful and teasing and generally unfair. “As the royal advisor, you could stand to spend more time in that room with me.”

“It’s not my fault you gave me that stupid position,” Felix sighed, putting a hand on his hip and shaking his head. “I thought you were going to make Dedue your advisor, not me. I’m not cut out for the job.”

“Yes, you are. Dedue is wonderful to work with, but he agrees with me too much. I needed someone like you, someone who could put me in my place.”

“Put you in your place, huh? And where would that place be?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Dimitri replied, and while Felix was contemplating if the charged air between them was what Sylvain called ‘the inherent sexual tension that comes with sparring’, Dimitri’s smile dropped into something more serious. “There is no one that I know of that has even a shred of the common sense you possess, Felix. I hope you know that you're invaluable to me.”

Felix, unused to being praised for anything but his physical strength, felt his traitorous face heat up. It was stupid, how much Dimitri’s words meant to him. It was stupid, how no one had ever appreciated this facet of him, and yet the king had granted him a position of power based on it. 

Felix knew he had more common sense than anyone else in the army, that had been an endless source of frustration for him during the war, where people’s lives were at stake and no one would _ listen _. Felix knew this was a good quality of his, but to have it be acknowledged, and appreciated? To have Dimitri finally be self aware enough to know he was lacking common sense, and to have him reach out to Felix for help?

Felix’s heart warmed at that and he hated it. 

“Shut up and fight me,” he grumbled, wanting to kick Dimitri’s satisfied smile in. And then, because he knew it still threw the king off guard to hear his name from Felix’s lips, he added, “Ready, Dimitri?”

“No need to ask,” Dimitri replied, sounding a little breathless, and Felix bit back a triumphant grin. 

He readied his sword and charged. 

* * *

“That’s enough,” Dimitri said, eyeing the wine glass Felix was filling with no small amount of despair. Felix ignored him, and kept filling it to the brim. “Felix. Felix, stop.”

Felix looked at him dead in the eyes, took the glass, and downed it in one go. Dimitri held his gaze, seemingly exasperated, and when Felix cocked his head towards Dimitri’s full glass, he sighed. Dimitri’s eyes darted from the quill in his hand, to the stack of papers under it, to the wine glass, to Felix. He sighed again, defeated, and downed his own glass much faster than Felix did. 

“You don’t even like alcohol that much,” the king complained, and Felix shrugged, refilling their glasses. 

“I’m not getting through this day sober,” he simply said, though it was already evening and he hadn’t popped the wine bottle he brought until they were done with most of the day’s work. 

“Please tell me you don’t do your paperwork drunk.”

“You read my report and it was fine, right?”

“Did you write it while drunk?”

“It was fine, right?”

“Felix.”

“Dimitri.” Felix pushed a full glass back into the king’s hands, and Dimitri glared at him. “C’mon, neither of us are lightweights. Especially not you.”

“I would say I’m as good at it as you are.”

“You hold your liquor like a beast, don’t think I’ve forgotten about the festivities at the end of the war.”

“That was on Sylvain for challenging me to a drinking contest.”

“Yes, he made a fool of himself and you drank like the only way alcohol affects your body is when you have to piss it out.”

Dimitri snorted at the vulgarity, probably finding it funnier than it actually was. He shook his head and drank more wine, this time taking a slower, longer sip. 

“It affects me in more ways,” he murmured into his glass, a slight smile on his lips, painted darker by the wine. “I feel the burn in my throat. That’s why I enjoy it.”

“Still can’t taste a thing, huh?” Felix asked, reclining against the backrest of his chair and stretching out his legs. “This wine’s pretty shitty, so you’re not missing much.”

Felix was lying; it wasn’t half bad. Still, he was not one to poke at his friends’ injuries, psychological or not, and the smile Dimitri gave him didn’t make him regret the lie at all. 

“Where did you get it?” 

“Stole it from the kitchens.”

“Buy it next time. You can afford it.”

Felix smiled, shaking his head. “Next time, huh? Finally decided to take your advisor’s advice?” 

Dimitri sighed deeply at that, slumping back on this seat, idly stirring the drink in his glass. He looked casual and relaxed like that, wearing simpler clothes than the day before, his sleeves rolled up, his first two buttons open. Felix had been trying not to stare at his collarbones all day. 

“I do try, Felix,” Dimitri lamented. “I try so hard, you know.”

_ I know, _ Felix thought. _ I see that every day. _

“Do you now?” he said instead. 

“It’s just— I just—” Dimitri fumbled with his words, running a hand through the stray bangs that didn't fit in his ponytail. “There is so much to _ do_, so much to _ fix_, and I know that I cannot do it all on my own, but there's this voice inside my head that tells me that _ I _ should be the one to take it all on my own, to atone, to—”

“I thought you were past listening to the voices inside your head,” Felix interrupted, resting an elbow on the desk and his chin on his hand. “Listen to me instead. Atonement won't come in the form of more hours spent in the office.”

“I know that, but I simply don't know what else to do.” Dimitri tapped his fingers on the desk, took his glass and downed the rest of his drink, and slumped even further on his seat. Completely unbefitting of a king, but bad sitting habits had followed Dimitri after those five years he spent alone. "Besides trying to rule Fódlan to the best of my ability and taking on as much work as I can, I just don't know…”

Felix grunted in annoyance, glaring at the king that wasn't even looking back at him, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. 

“How can you be so slow?” he asked, crossing his arms over the desk. “Want to atone? Then stop making your friends worry about you and rely on them properly.” Dimitri sent him a dubious look, and Felix only deepened his frown. “How many times do I have to teach you this lesson, you fool? Stop looking down at your feet and start looking at the people around you.” 

“I _ try_.”

“I _ know_, idiot. This whole atonement of yours—” Felix made a vague gesture with his arms, “—is well on its way. We all see your efforts, you just have to start seeing _ ours _ too. People like Ingrid, Dedue or Ashe won't tell you because they're too busy eating your ass—”

“Don’t say that,” Dimitri cut him off, his voice weak. 

“—to voice their feelings,” Felix continued, ignoring his friend. “But they're constantly trailing behind you to take some of the burden. Turn around and face that. Let them help. Let us all help.” 

_ Let me help_, he didn’t say. It was implied, though, and Felix was certain that his friends knew how to catch onto these things by now. Dimitri looked at him with a wide eye, open and vulnerable, and then his expression contorted with emotion before he leant forward, abruptly dropping his face to the desk, scattering some of the papers around. Felix looked down at his mop of blonde hair, unimpressed. 

“Never change, Felix,” Dimitri murmured, his face pressed against the documents. 

“I wasn’t gonna, even if you tell me.”

“I _ really _ like how you are,” Dimitri continued as if he had heard nothing. “I really, really do.”

Felix’s heart jumped in his chest, and he licked his lips. Taken aback but grateful that Dimitri wasn’t looking his way, he lifted a hand and pressed his knuckles against his own cheek, feeling how it heated up. 

“Shut up,” he croaked out.

“I do not voice my appreciation for you enough,” the king continued, lifting his earnest gaze. Felix reeled back on instinct, using the hand near his face to cover part of it. “Always helping me get back on the right track, always keeping me on my toes… I truly do wonder what I did to deserve you.”

“Cut it out, boar,” Felix said, his voice shaky. “You know I hate hearing that crap.”

Dimitri smiled at him, an innocent and sincere smile like the ones he gave Felix when they were kids. The ones Felix had missed when Dimitri’s smiles started looking fake, like repulsive masks to hide away the sorrow. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Forgive me for my selfishness, but I just wanted you to hear that.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“My apologies,” Dimitri replied, but he didn’t look sorry at all, propping his chin on his palm and looking at Felix with a stupidly happy grin. “And thank you for helping me with my work today.”

“Stop thanking me, I’m only here because I lost the duel.”

“Still, I’m happy I get to spend more time with you,” Dimitri went on, and Felix wanted to punch him. Dimitri was always too sincere for anyone’s good, but what was with this overt display of affection? Was he making fun of him? Trying to kill him, perhaps? 

“Drop the flattery,” he said, his hand twitching in front of his face. He knew he couldn’t hide his blush fully like that, but he was too proud to turn away. “What are you even getting at?”

Dimitri’s averted his gaze like a guilty child caught stirring some trouble, and Felix decided he wasn’t drunk enough for whatever Dimitri’s intentions were with all the flattery, so he poured himself another glass while the king sat up straighter and wrung his hands together. 

Felix poured him a glass too, emptying what was left in the bottle in it, and slid it across the desk. Dimitri took it, downed it in one go again, and spoke with a raspy voice. 

“Do you recall the meeting we held at Garreg Mach Monastery last month, with the professor and Claude?”

“The one to discuss relations with Almyra,” Felix confirmed. He hadn't gone to the meeting; it had been a busy month in the Fraldarius territory. He had been trying to leave the place well attended to, since he was to leave for the capital for a set period of time to assist Dimitri more directly. “You said it went well.”

“Oh, it did, it went splendidly. It’s just…” Dimitri chewed on his lower lip, and Felix tried to keep his gaze trained on the other’s eye. “The professor asked how we were all doing when the meeting was over. They said they missed us all.”

“And?”

“They… they asked if you still, uhm—” Dimitri raised his hands, punctuating his words by using air quotes. “—spent all day staring at me longingly and talking about nothing but me.”

A wave of mortification hit Felix with such intensity that he leant back on instinct, his breath shuddering. The hand he had lowered came back to cover his face, the blush that had calmed down returned with full force. 

He said nothing, but in his mind there was a litany of _ what? What? No. No, no, no, no. _

“A-and, you know,” Dimitri continued, not looking at him at all. “I was about to ask what they were talking about, that you never did that, but Ingrid just, just _ laughed _ and said that if anything you talked about me even more now, which is just— I mean—”

“Shut up,” Felix breathed, because Dimitri wasn’t supposed to _ know_. “Just shut up.”

Damn the professor, damn Ingrid. Felix would have their heads, both of them. Surely Fódlan could do without an archbishop. Surely the Galatea house could manage without their heir. Surely nothing would happen if Felix made them pay for this.

“F-Felix, did you…?” Dimitri let his sentence trail off, as if he wasn’t sure of what he was asking. Felix wondered how bad it would be if he just jumped over the desk and beat the shit out of his king. 

“Someone had to keep an eye on you,” he blurted out, but the words just sounded like a pitiful excuse, and they explained nothing about the fact that Felix never stopped talking about Dimitri and that seemingly everyone but the man himself noticed that, so before Dimitri could say anything else, before he could embarrass him further, Felix opened his mouth without thinking and said, “I used to have feelings for you.”

Felix stood up abruptly, his chair toppling backwards, and he wordlessly headed for the door. He heard the sound of another chair rattling and papers rustling and falling, but he didn’t turn back.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait, Felix.”

Felix’s was turning the door handle when a hand slammed onto the door above his head, keeping it closed. Felix couldn’t even pretend that he could best Dimitri in a test of strength, but he still turned the handle and tried, ignoring the shadow looming over him, the warmth he felt on his back and on his face and all over his body. 

“Move,” he muttered between gritted teeth, and that only got the hand above his head to slide down, next to Felix’s face, completely pinning him between the door and the boar. 

“May I regain that love?” Dimitri asked, his voice low, and Felix stopped breathing. 

“What?” he said, slowly turning his head around and regretting it instantly, because Dimitri was _ close _, close and unkempt and kinda red in the face. 

“You used the past tense. You said that you _ used _ to love me.” Dimitri licked his lips nervously, and Felix couldn’t even pretend that his gaze didn’t dart down to follow the motion. “May I regain that love? Little by little?”

Felix swallowed, his head swimming with the implications of those words. He turned fully and raised his chin, trying to look more composed than he actually felt. 

“Settle down, Your Royal Majesty,” he sneered. “Don't you have an heir to provide?”

“Since when do you care about heirs?” Dimitri replied, which was fair. Felix wasn't ashamed to let his bloodline die with him, and everyone knew that. “I'm not thinking about that right now. I want to know if it's possible… if you think there is something I can do to make you love me again.”

_ You don't have to do anything, _ he almost replied. He tried to take a deep breath, looking closely at his friend’s flustered expression, at his nervous body language.

This was Dimitri in his rawest, most vulnerable form. This was the same Dimitri that Felix had fallen for all of those years ago, the one that pouted when he lost against Glenn and cried when he felt he had disappointed his father. This was the Dimitri that Felix had once thought dead, when everything went to hell and yet Felix continue to love what the prince had become, against his better judgement, against his deepest wishes.

“Why are you asking,” he said. His voice sounded more defensive than he intended. 

In contrast, Dimitri’s voice was pleading when he spoke. “Please, answer my question first.” 

“I'm not answering shit until you tell me why you're asking.”

Dimitri looked at him like he was the one trapped between a taller, stronger man and the door, like Felix was gripping him tight and keeping him where he was. They weren't even touching, but Dimitri’s hand was so close to Felix’s face that, if he wanted to, he could tilt his head and rest his cheek against the king’s bare wrist. He pushed down the desire to do just that, staying firm, forcing Dimitri to be the first one to break. 

“I have been thinking a lot,” Dimitri murmured, and his voice was shaky. “Since the meeting, about you and I.”

“And?” Felix prompted, impatient. 

“And I realized I used to have feelings for you, too,” he continued. “When we were children, I loved you, I always wanted to be with you. But everything happened and I forgot.”

Felix’s hands started shaking at his sides. 

“And you remember now?” 

“When you called me by my name again after so many years,” Dimitri said, leaning forward a little. From this distance, Felix could count his eyelashes, “I felt like I could kiss you.”

Felix’s breath hitched. 

He could have this, he realized. He had never considered he could because Felix had never planned to voice his feelings, but he _ could have this_. He could have him. He could just reach out and take him and never let him go. 

“Why didn't you?” he asked in a low voice. Dimitri made a noise at the back of his throat and Felix’s knees felt weak. 

“Would you have wanted me to? In front of everyone?”

Felix didn't know how to answer, so grabbed Dimitri by the collar and tugged him down. Dimitri made a surprised noise and stumbled forward, his forehead knocking against Felix’s, hard. Really hard. 

“Shit!” Felix hissed in pain, his hands instinctively raising to hold his forehead and hitting Dimitri in the jaw in the process. The king grunted in pain and leaned back a little. “Fuck, my bad. Why is your head so _ hard_?”

“I don't know, I've never felt it,” Dimitri replied unhelpfully, rubbing his jaw with a hand, keeping the other against the door. “I have been on the receiving end of your sword, but you sure pack a mean punch too.”

Felix snorted, slumped back against the door, and finally gave into the temptation to lean his cheek against Dimitri’s wrist. The king’s skin was warm, and Felix closed his eyes. 

“You're stupid, you know that?” He smiled, opened his eyes, and saw Dimitri looking at him like he had personally hung the moon in the sky. “A moron. An utter fool.”

Dimitri laughed softly, and Felix, heart swimming with affection, thought to himself, _ what are you doing to me, boar? _

“Aren't we both?” Dimitri said, slowly twisting his hand so that he could cup Felix’s cheek. Felix leaned into it, chasing its warmth. 

“Speak for yourself,” he replied. He slid a hand up Dimitri’s chest and tugged on his collar again, softer this time. “C’mon. Do something.”

“Okay,” Dimitri breathed, leaning in once more. He touched their foreheads together, gently now. “Okay.”

The first press of lips was chaste, gentle. Barely there. A little too soft for Felix’s liking, but he let it slide because, eyes open, he could see Dimitri’s eyelid fluttering shut, the blue of his eye disappearing behind blonde eyelashes. It was endearing. 

It was always that word, the word that Felix didn't want to associate with Dimitri. Endearing, terribly, horribly endearing. He could do just about anything and Felix’s heart would swell with love for the bastard, and it had always been like that. When they were little and inseparable and Felix would cling to his hand every time Dimitri smiled his way; when they were teenagers and Felix tried to hate him but then Dimitri would light up at the sight of a rare sword; when they became adults and Dimitri would fumble through his own redemption, ready to change but clumsy at it. Always irritatingly loveable, always unspeakably endearing. 

Felix slid his hand up Dimitri’s neck, curling it around his nape and pulling him forward to slot their lips together more firmly. Dimitri’s fingers twitched on his face, but he still tilted his head to find a better angle, bringing his other hand to Felix’s hip. 

They were both inexperienced, Felix could tell. Dimitri kissed like he was overthinking it, his movements stiff and overly careful. His lips were surprisingly soft though, and he was warm, and sweet, and when Felix got fed up of simply moving their mouths together and darted his tongue out to prod at Dimitri’s closed lips, he tasted like the wine he couldn’t taste himself. Dimitri gasped, and Felix let him pull back slightly to catch his breath. 

“Good?” he asked, watching Dimitri swallow, watching his Adam’s apple bob and wanting to bite it. 

“Overwhelming,” the other replied, his voice rough. 

“We’ve barely done anything,” he grumbled, raising his free hand to lightly pinch Dimitri’s cheek. 

“I-I know, but… I am unused to intimacy.”

Felix wanted to snap at him and say that he was as well, but Dimitri looked like a kicked puppy, and Felix had to remind himself that the man in front of him had gone five years without the touch of another human. He couldn't expect him to be good at receiving affection after that kind of prolonged isolation, no matter how far in the past it was. 

“Fine, take your time,” he said, carding his fingers through haphazardly tied strands of hair. “I'm used to waiting anyway.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri replied, relief evident in his voice. “Really, I do not know what I did to deserve you.” 

Felix tugged on his hair. “Say that one more time and I'm never kissing you again.” 

Dimitri bit his lips so fast that Felix couldn't hold back a startled laugh. Dimitri sent him a questioning look, but Felix only shook his head and leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to the king’s lips. 

“Good boy,” he said, patting his cheek twice and smiling smugly at the utterly flustered look Dimitri gave him. “Behaving like a properly tamed boar, I’m proud.”

Dimitri frowned, an expression that Felix couldn’t take seriously when it was paired with quite the furious blush. “You’re mocking me.”

“You said you like how I am, so you can’t complain about it.”

“You didn’t even answer.” Dimitri was starting to pout, and Felix seriously considered if he was actually regressing into his child self. 

“Answer what?”

“What I should do to regain your love.”

Felix gaped at him. 

“...Are you serious?” he asked, incredulous. “We just kissed!”

“But you used the past. You said that you _ used _ to have feelings for me.”

“Oh my god, Dimitri, when will you learn to read between the lines?” Felix ran a hand through his own bangs, frustrated, and then flicked Dimitri’s forehead. The bastard didn't even flinch. 

“Are you in love with me, Felix?” he asked, and Felix groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

“Don't ask if you already know the answer!” he said into his palms, his voice muffled. 

“I want to hear it. Please.” 

Felix peeked from behind his fingers, and there it was, the pleading expression, the sincere gaze, the look of someone expecting a rejection. He clenched his hands into fists and pressed them against his eyelids. 

“...I am,” he said in a small voice. 

“I love you too,” Dimitri replied immediately, and he sounded like he was smiling. 

Felix wasn't an oblivious idiot and he _ could _ read between the lines, so he hadn't needed to hear those words. Still, in the privacy of his own thoughts, he could admit that they were quite nice to hear anyway. 

“Let's…” Felix cleared his throat. “Let’s get away from the door.” He lowered his hands from his face and looked at the abandoned papers on their desk. “We should finish what we started.” 

“To be honest, I doubt I will be able to concentrate,” Dimitri admitted, though he did withdraw his hands, putting some space between them. 

Felix felt a little cold, suddenly, and he bit the inside of his cheek. 

“Or we could head to the training grounds,” he suggested with a shrug. “Have a sword on sword match today.”

“It's always the training grounds with you,” Dimitri chuckled, as if he wasn't the same. “Sure, that sounds great. Ready to lose again?”

Felix scoffed. “In your dreams, Dimitri.” 

In the end, Dimitri lost. He would later come to blame Felix for holding his hand on their way to the training grounds, saying that it ‘scattered his thoughts’ before the match. Felix, of course, would shut him up with a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I found it hilarious that Felix did a kabedon in his S support and yet I had Dimitri give him a taste of his own medicine here, so I'm a hypocrite and you can laugh at me. 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/deformedcities/)


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